


Forgiveness Unbidden

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-26
Updated: 2008-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode tag for 'Broken Ties.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness Unbidden

The grief is almost unbearable.

At first it makes no sense – he's lost more than a single friend before, lost everything in a rush of weapons fire and thundering explosions, lost wife and family and place and home. But this, this leaden pain lodged beneath his breast bone, it twists and pulls with every breath and his throat is thick with sounds he dare not make; his eyes burn with tears it can be nothing but betrayal to shed. He never cried for Malena; would he break for a tortured fool when he could not for his wife?

But grief, he realizes in the dark hours of morning, Tyre's sword across his chest like a talisman against old ghosts, is a luxury he never had. In this loss linger older pains, those that birthed him to a life as a Runner, without opportunity to say the Remembrance, without pause to mark the Ancestor's Day and throw _cheshna_ flowers to the eddies of the local stream. In his heart is locked a mourning as hard to face as the pains that marked withdrawal, and he hates for a moment the new friends who gave him this safety, these clean white sheets and a hospital bed, food and water and purpose again, leave to miss those who are dust.

They seem to understand – their vigil, which he almost recalls, does not end with his waking; they flutter like _A'nan_ birds protecting a nest. He cannot speak his feelings, but they do not expect it; Teyla reads to him, poetry from other worlds, epic verses penned in tribute to warriors long fallen. McKay talks to him, babbling inanities that help him sleep without facing nightmares, tales of winter sports and Russian alcohol that thread through his dreams and keep the _gat-yik_ monsters at bay. And Sheppard – Sheppard brings his reports, keeps him up to date on tactics and intel without phrasing it as such, weaving fisher-nets of belonging around him with rolled eyes and snorts at the missteps of each off-world team.

He heals; wounds close and bruises fade; he walks a steady line to the bathroom and back. They bring his clothes – nurses with clean-scrubbed hands and distant, kind smiles – and he sits on his bed when he's dressed, staring at his boots, wondering at the exhaustion that bleeds through his bones, making the distance between his fingers and feet a greater span than he can reach.

But then Sheppard is there, squatting down, muttering, "Hey, hang on, lemme give you a hand," shoving at work-worn leather, tugging on laces, standing up and dusting his hands, saying, "Thought I'd walk you back."

And Ronon bows his head, _hashna_ -locks shadowing his face, whispers, "Sorry. 'Bout – " words that cut open his tongue. Sheppard lays a hand on his shoulder, says, "Hey, now, none of that," and there's sweet, living pain in the tears that roll down Ronon's face, in the movement of Sheppard's hand to the back of his neck, in the exhaled, "Yeah, buddy, I know."

On Sateda, after a loved one's death, he would have welcomed isolation; eaten only _rasha_ , drunk simple water, recited the blessings of his clan and added another name to those he should recall. But these rites of mourning are precious too – the weight of a friend's hand, the cadence of another's voice, the clumsy babble of a third made nervous by breakages he cannot fix. Ronon swipes at his face, stands resolute, jerks his head and almost meets John's eye. "The rest of them?" he asks.

"Mess," John says. "You wanna. . ."

"Yeah," Ronon nods, this belonging a salve against loss. "I need pancakes."

And John's smirk is acceptance, forgiveness unbidden, affection, hopefulness, trust.


End file.
